


Drunk Cookies

by Lynn_StarDragon



Category: The Lorax (2012)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, silly stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:37:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3474698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynn_StarDragon/pseuds/Lynn_StarDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's wrong with eating sweets? It's not like they could actually hurt him...</p><p>Too much of a good thing catches up with Oncie. Hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> Based on actual events. I wish I was joking.
> 
> Beta'd by Vihtalaini.

 

  
Onceler loved holidays. They were happy times of getting together with family and loved ones--something he had in spades after moving out of his mother's house. Greedler, his arguably future self, had only been the first of many new additions to his life. There had been the Lorax as well as the brown bar ba-loots, the humming fish and swami swans too. Even the people in town had become nicer to him once he took Greedler's advice to sell something other than Thneeds. Who knew flapjacks would be so popular? With Truffula Berry preserves to boot.

It wasn't much of a stretch to say that he had something of a fanclub, clearly he had a dedicated customer base. He only made so much product every day, so supplies were always limited. His cart catered to the late breakfast/lunch crowd with lines wrapping around the block sometimes. First come, first served, he was very fair with his patrons and people were always eager to see him the next day--if they could.

Perhaps it was because he was so personable and friendly that had them coming back time and time again, even if he'd run out of batter and had closed shop for the day. It was nice being able to talk to people in the town and to people in general. The tourists loved him too, he'd become something of an attraction along with Greedler--or as most in town knew him 'the singing babysitter'. It wasn't all that uncommon for people to grab a bite to eat with Onceler only to head over to hear Greedler playing his guitar.

What was uncommon (to start) were the people who brought gifts. Some people just really liked what the two of them did for the town, even if it was an unintentional byproduct of making a living. Most could see Onceler's dedication to something he loved doing and wanted to give back a little themselves. Others wanted to thank Greedler for bringing both beautiful music and important educational messages (mostly about the environment) to their children. As long as it was small things Onceler had no problems accepting the gifts--it would have been rude to turn thoughtful presents down. Bigger gifts tended to make him uncomfortable and he would find polite ways to let the givers know he couldn't possible accept them, mostly involving the inability to fit them in his wagon or being afraid that it would break on his way home.

So, naturally, his good customers picked up on this. They would bring little packages, nothing extravagant. No boxes of jewelry or precious stones, no checks for large sums or stacks of money. It became smaller things like a good book, a new set of cooking utensils, the occasional headband or apron and of course small care-packages of home cooked food. The boxed meals meant the most to Onceler. He spent all his time cooking for others so it was always touching when someone went out of their way to cook for him.

By the time Christmas had rolled around, his patrons had picked up on that too.

-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-

"Happy Yule!" Onceler served up another toasty warm platter of flapjacks for pick up.

The man on the other side of the cart just smiled, "Thanks and Happy Yule to you too." With a few bills stuffed into the tip jar he gladly took his order and moved aside for the next person.

The next person was a little old woman with warm eyes and a small parcel tucked under her arm. "Good morning, dearie. How have you been?"

"I've been just wonderful, Granny Jane," Onceler chirped back. There might have been people behind her but every customer was important to him--which they all knew and thus were content to wait patiently while he served every individual. "How about yourself?"

"Can't complain." She chuckled. "Family is all healthy and warm and I'm still up and moving each day. I get out to see all my friends and chat with this nice young man who serves lunch in the center of town." She gave a bit of a knowing wink over the top of her glasses to which he gave a friendly laugh. They bantered lightly for a few more moments before she asked if he had any Truffula Preserves left. Onceler brought out a few jars of varying sizes and helped the elderly lady put together a little bundled selection.

"They'll be gifts," she mentioned offhandedly.

"I'm sure everyone will love them. If they don't, or have some kind of problem," the young vendor quickly ducked under his cart and brought out a red ticket for each jar in the 'gift basket' they'd made. "Then have them come by my cart with one of these 'gift receipt' tickets." He quickly scribbled a time and date on the back of each ticket before stamping them 'valid'. (He wouldn't have been so paranoid about redundancies and fail-safes but Greedler insisted on some level of accountability and people had tried to scam him before.)

"Bless your heart, Onceler. Here." She brought out the parcel that had been under her arm all that time and slid it over the counter to the mildly confused merchant. It was slightly smaller than a shoebox, bound up with twine in a bow. "I'm sorry it's not wrapped properly, but it's the inside that counts. Happy Holidays, dearie. Don't eat them all at once."

"Oh," he smiled brightly, now that he had an inkling of what kind of gift it was. "That's very thoughtful of you, thank you so much. Happy Holidays."

With that done she paid for her gift basket and was on her way. Onceler took a moment to store the box under his counter before asking the next person in line to step up. His heart was warm and his smile shone extra bright for the rest of the day, even well after his hours of operation had come and gone.

When it was time to head home, Onceler brought the wagon to meet up with Greedler.

The ex-business mogul was winding down his last set of seasonal tunes by the time he made it over to the town square. It was still nice to hear his older self play so passionately and Onceler settled in to watch the end of the show. He didn't have terribly long to wait and unlike him Greedler's 'breaking down shop' consisted of packing away his electric axe, scooping up his own (plastic) tip jar and bidding the crowd a good day. Sometimes the gathered children would plead for one more song, but given the cold winds and snow already on the ground the green clad man would not be swayed and shooed all the little ones back into the protective arms of their parents.

Once they were herded off, he looked about for his younger 'twin' and headed his way. It was as Greedler was approaching that he noticed a familiar looking parcel on the front seat next to said twin. "Oh, you got one too?"

"I guess so," Onceler noted the identical package under his elder double's arm. "Granny Jane?"

"The very same," he pulled himself up into the seat while Onceler moved his own box out of the way. A few moments of shifting things and getting themselves situated later, Melvin was pulling the wagon at a comfortable pace heading back to their house-tent in the woods. "She tell you not to eat them in one go?"

"Yep-po," Onceler shifted so that he was leaning towards his double. Greedler casually angled his body so that they were closer together and it looked as natural as two friends trying to stay warm could be.

They liked to save cuddles for after they had passed the town limits.

-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-

"Cookies?" Greedler eyed the contents of his box.

Granny Jane hadn't said to wait for any specific holiday date to open them, so he had pulled off the brown parchment paper at the first available opportunity. Inside had been a plain little box and inside of that had been clearly homemade cookies. She had even left a little note inside naming them 'mamaw's whiskey cookies'.

"Well," he grinned, "that explains why we can't eat them all at once."

"What do you mean?" Onceler had one of his own cookies in hand, already half eaten.

Greedler snorted. "Just go easy on them."

"Sure," not that he had any clue why he'd need to. Just because they were called 'whiskey cookies' didn't mean that they were actually made with whiskey. He further reasoned, as he finished munching on his indulgence, that even if they had been made with whiskey it had probably just been for flavor and been completely cooked out by now. Still he'd limit himself to how many a day he'd have of the box, just for his double's peace of mind.

-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-

Over the next week business picked up to a frantic pace. It was the heart of the holiday season and everyone was busy getting gifts for their families and friends. Onceler's little cart became very popular. He had to put a limit both on how much preserve he sold each day and how much an individual could buy, or he would have been out of stock by the end of the first day. He'd been preparing for this but it was still frightfully chaotic.

Some days he hardly had the time to look down at his watch to see if it was time to close up shop or not. On those days eating his own lunch became not only a luxury but a downright impossibility. Knowing that he had to at least eat something, unless he wanted Greedler to berate him for not eating, he took to packing little snacks to go with his lunch. In most cases the little snakes ended up being something simple he could grab and the easiest things to grab were usually some of his cookies. It wasn't many, three at the most, just to get him through the day.

Everything had been fine during the week. He'd work his shift, eat what he could and at the end of the day eat his actual lunch on the way home. It was a pretty solid pattern that had been serving him well during that time. When the weekend rolled around, however, it was a different story. He did like the cookies and nibbled them sparingly at home. Again he was careful not to have too many at once. Really he couldn't understand what all the fuss had been about. It wasn't until he woke up one morning with the start of a huge headache that he got his first clue.

Onceler had whimpered a little at the sudden light flooding the room. Sunlight from the window being thrown open.

"Rise and Shine, buttercup," the Lorax took a deep breath from the window and ducked Greedler's automatic reflex to throw something at him. "I wasn't talking to you."

Greedler responded with his customary hiss and burrowed his head under the pillows. It took him a few moments to realize the body next to his wasn't moving. Curious, he peeked out from under the safety of his shady hideaway. Onceler was still cocooned in blankets aplenty and didn't look like he was going to come out anytime soon. The former tycoon's brows furrowed. "Oncie?"

A pathetic whine answered him as the younger man snuggled deeper into the soft covers.

"Hey," Greedler came slightly out of hiding just as the Lorax looked over with concern as well. They usually didn't agree on anything but the boy's health and safety was one of the rare exceptions that proved the rule. "Oncie, what's wrong?"

He gave a pained mewl before a muffed, "Head hurts," came through the covers.

"Is it real bad?" Lorax stood on tiptoe so that even his mustache was over the edge of the bed. Another pained whine was his only answer.

"That's a yes," Greedler was now wide awake, thoughts of sleep and grumpiness pushed to the side as paranoia came to the forefront. "Oncie," he started to grope around under the blankets, looking for an edge with which to peel back the protective fabric shell. "Can you sit up?"

The blob of blankets gave a halfhearted shift before another unhappy sound issued forth.

"Okay, so... moving hurts your head?"

"Up hurts too."

"How about speaking?"

Onceler hummed thoughtfully. "No."

Okay then, "Thinking?"

"... Slow. Harder, but no."

Right, that gave him something to work with. "Anything else hurt? Sore throat? Hands?"

"Eyes." He shifted again. "Light really hurts."

Greedler frowned at that. "Have you been watching your blood sugar?" It wasn't like the boy could have eaten in his sleep, but so help him if he'd skipped out on lunches just because of the holiday rush--

"I eat. Everyday. Snacks too."

Now he was highly confused. He had been eating snacks and keeping his sugar up as well as lunch. Maybe he was just hungry now? "How do you feel--aside from bad and in pain."

"Sleepy."

He probably should have seen that coming. Just as he was about to open his mouth again the Lorax cut in. "How about some warm tea? Or a cold glass of water?"

The blankets shivered, "Teeeeeea."

The orange spirit looked up and met the gaze of the older human. "So, warm drinks are good and cold drinks are bad?"

"Yes."

Greedler nodded to the shrewd forest-dweller, who turned his attention back to Onceler. "I'll go make ya something mild," then he dropped back to his feet and padded away--though not before throwing Greedler another look.

The time-traveler waved him out. His message had ben received loud and clear and he'd try to piece together what was going on. "Hey, Oncie?" He waited for the blankets to whine at him again. "Can you tell me what your week has been like?"

"Told you. Tell you every night we come home."

He could almost hear the pout in his young double's voice and couldn't help the small smile. "You tell me about the people. I want to hear about you, what your days are like."

There was another hesitation before Onceler lowly murmured a recap of his week. Each day was busy but delightful. The people were nice even if he hardly had any time to eat. He'd resorted to just munching on little snacks to keep himself going. Usually he just subsisted on candies or cupcakes, but since Granny Jane had made them those cookies he'd brought a few of them to work each day.

Greedler covered his face with his palm. "And I've seen you eating them at home too." Oh this was rich. "Hey, Oncie? How do you feel about food?" Unsurprisingly, he wanted little to do with it. He tried his hardest not to laugh though he knew he was probably smirking like a fiend. Thank goodness his younger self wasn't looking at him. "But tea is okay?" An affirmative mewl answered him. "Okay."

When the Lorax came back into the room he was first worried for the young human and annoyed that the older human didn't look worried anymore. "What's the big idea?"

"I know what's plaguing our baker extraordinaire." He slid out of the bed to get to the drawer of the nightstand. From it he pulled out a large pill bottle of painkillers. "Someone has a hangover."

The pile of blankets jerked up at that. "No," then fell back onto the pillows, "I don't drink. Told me not to."

Lorax placed the cup of tea onto the nightstand before he dropped it. "Yeah slim, it's not like buttercup to go partying on the town."

"He didn't have to," Greedler dumped two pills into his palm before setting the bottle aside. "He brought the goods home with him, as cookies."

Now both the spirit and young merchant were confused. Onceler even poked his head out from the swirl of blankets. "Huh?"

Greedler just picked up the cup of tea and brought it over to the younger man. "Drink first," Onceler took a sip, "and these," he took the pills to swallow as well. "Good," he offered his younger double another chance at the tea before putting the cup back down. "So, Oncie, you remember those things are called 'whiskey cookies'?"

"Yeah," his brows knit in confusion, "but that's just for flavor."

The former CEO just laughed. "Nope. Those things are like half alcohol. I asked," which he'd suspected to be the case anyway. "Now that's not a problem for me, I'm used to knocking back a few stiff drinks now and then." As in 'every night' once his company had started to go belly up. "You though... you don't drink, right?" Onceler shook his head. "And you're thin as a rail and working yourself to the bone and not eating and drinking enough so..." He shrugged. "You got drunk on cookies."

Onceler just gaped up at his older twin. "I did what now?"

"Got drunk on cookies, apparently," Lorax shook his head before scrubbing his face. "Congrats?"

"It's certainly an achievement," Greedler agreed.

"Should I burn the rest of them?" The nature spirit helpfully offered.  
  
"Nah," he waved the idea away, "we just can't let him eat more than a few every week." He looked his younger self over. "Maybe every other week to start--once he's better."

Onceler just pouted up at both of them before snuggling deeper into his blanket nest. "After tea I want hot cocoa," it might have been a demand but it was ruined by how adorable he looked.

"Sure," Greedler smiled as he sat back on the bed, "the dairy will help. So, what have we learned?"

Onceler rolled his eyes. "If it's made with alcohol, it's not alcohol free."

"And that you need more than cookies to live off of," Greedler urged.

He pouted harder, "And that I need more than cookies to live off of."

"Good," Greedler pecked him on the top of his head. "I'm gonna make you soup. Lorax is gonna stay here and keep you from getting into mischief. You are staying in that bed until 'up' no longer hurts. Clear?" He looked between both other beings in the room.

"Clear," came two answers in unison.

Satisfied with their answers he left to make good on that soup. (Really, it was a wonder he had lived to become himself without someone there to watch over him. But then, he could make sure he grew up to be a better person this time around.)

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ..... It gets worse:
> 
> I made those cookies myself (with friends) and watched as we dumped like a bottle into the dough. I was young and thought all of it had cooked out.
> 
> Word to the wise? Getting buzzed on cookies isn't half bad but surprise hangovers suck. A whole lot.
> 
> Reblog on [tumblr.](http://heartlessdarkness-mun.tumblr.com/post/113089587937/lorax-fanfic-drunk-cookies)


End file.
